His Criminal
by Faithful Strings
Summary: Their relationship wasn't sweet, it definitely wasn't kind and it wasn't your fairy tale love story, either. After being taunted by horrid dreams for months, John finally meets his terrifying lover. :: YAOI :: JOHNIARTY :: SMUT :: LANGUAGE :: YOU ARE WARNED!


**Disclaimer: I do not own _Sherlock_.**

**His Criminal.**

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**Pairing: Jim M. x John W.**

**Rating: M**

**Part: 1/2.**

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**NOTE:**** Hey guys! Whoa, I actually like this pairing.. oh. This originally started off as a one-shot, but I decided to make it into a multi-shot filled with angst and romance. Criminal love is fun, isn't it? xD**

**Well, here you go!**

**I hope you enjoy.**

**Grammar/spelling errors ahead~**

_**~ Faithful Strings.**_

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The morning was somewhat quiet, the usual buzz of London was a dull noise in the background, and the apartment was far too quiet. John Watson laid on a large bed, looking up at the ceiling with tired eyes; this was the third time he was up and awake with no sleep prior to his mind telling him to wake up, because he was _still _haunted with those dreaded memories of the psychopath who had used him, marked him, made John nothing more than a _whore_; and he still loved the man, which was the worst thing about it. Oh, when the man had been kidnapped by _him _and brought to the pool, he had been terrified; Jim Moriarty was back in his life, and he _knew _the genius wouldn't leave without John back at his side, doing what he did best; pleasing Jim with his somewhat athletic body.

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

John sighed at the obnoxious beeping outside from those with obnoxiously loud horns, and he reluctantly kicked his blankets back, deciding to finally get out of bed. The floor beneath his feet was cold, but John hardly noticed, he simply walked across the floor with sad eyes; he was still scared of Jim, because he had been wrapped around the criminal's little finger, believing that Jim would actually leave him if John didn't do as he was told; even if they were never in an _actual _relationship. The memories haunted him every time he tried to sleep, and he had opted for staying up and keeping Sherlock company at times, anything to get rid of the mental image of that man's angry sneer and the sound of those enraged death threats; and then they changed into a charming smile, and John often remembered himself wrapped up in Jim's arms, listening to the man's apologies.

_"I didn't mean it Johnny, you know Daddy gets upset sometimes."_

Was the biggest excuse Jim had ever used, and terrifyingly enough; John had believed him, and _still _did. John snapped back to reality and quickly began getting dressed, wearing a frumpy sweater and a pair of old jeans; he had left his shoes in the living room, so he'd need to face Sherlock this morning, and listen to his blabbering about how John needed to get over his fear and get some decent sleep. Oh well, he knew Sherlock meant well, even if the high functioning sociopath didn't express it in the nicest of ways.

Slowly, but surely, John finally left the safety of his bedroom and shakily closed the door behind him, heading downstairs and towards the living room. When he got there, Sherlock was sat with his fingers pressed together in a temple-like style, and his eyes were closed as he took deep breaths; he wasn't asleep, since Sherlock _rarely _got a decent amount of sleep (bloody hypocrite!), so he knew Sherlock was probably in his mind palace.

"Good morning." Sherlock greeted with his usual bored tone, opening his eyes slowly. John nodded in greeting and walked over to his own chair, sitting down on the comfortable piece of furniture carefully. "John, what is your relationship with Moriarty?" Sherlock asked bluntly, shocking John into a horrified silence; he wasn't exactly _surprised _that Sherlock had figured out that something was wrong, but he _was_ surprised by Sherlock's bluntness about it. "You whimper his name in your sleep, and you tense whenever his name is mentioned, therefore you must have had an abusive past with him." Sherlock was examining John, and he let it happen; knowing Sherlock _wouldn't _shut up until he proved his bloody point. "At the pool, you were reluctant to try and hold Moriarty in your arms, you didn't hold him like an army officer - or doctor - would, you held him as if you were afraid he'd turn on _you_."

"Sherlock.." John tried, but the man waved him off dismissively, earning a frustrated look from John. He didn't want to hear about this, no matter how childish Sherlock was about the situation, he _would not _be told to grow up over such a traumatizing event!

"Also, Moriarty's gaze lingered on you more than it did on me, you didn't meet our gazes at all; not even when his _dreadful _ringtone began playing, you just looked at the pool and listened to me and Moriarty speak. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were afraid, John. Are you afraid of Jim Moriarty?"

"_SHERLOCK_!" John shouted angrily, raising his voice to snap the sociopath out of his state. John quickly got up and found his shoes, slipping the worn footwear on quickly. "I am not discussing my past or relationship with that bloody psychopath, you already know the answer!"

"Ah, so you _do _have a- John?" John heard Sherlock getting up, clearly moving in an attempt to stop John from running out the door. "Where're you going? _We _have a case!"

"No, _you _have a case, _I _have some free time; and I'm going to use it wisely." John snapped, before rushing out of the room, grabbing his jacket on the way. Sherlock shouted protests after him, but John was out of the door and into the busy streets of London in seconds, unaware of the predator in the crowds; waiting for him to run off to a more.. _private _place.

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John didn't know how long he had been walking, but by the time he stopped, he realized he was in a quieter place in town; somewhere secluded from the police's view, and there weren't as many people around here. It was as clean as the rest of London, surprisingly, so John wandered into a café opposite his previous spot; the café was clean, too, and a few mothers with kids sat at different tables.

"May I help you, sir?" a teenager with brightly coloured hair asked, seeming rather polite. John ordered a cup of tea and a few scones, paid and walked over to a free table near the window. He was glad Sherlock hadn't followed him, he _really _needed some time to think; even if it meant sneaking away to a secluded part of town, and having a cup of tea in a potentially dangerous café. However, John didn't waste a lot of time, and got down to thinking how he could deal with his fear; and sadly, he didn't get very far in his line of thought.

"Hm.." a voice hummed next to his ear, and John tensed instantly; he knew that voice _far _too well. A hand came to his shoulder, and a warm, wet tongue carefully licked the shell of John's ear; from anyone else's point of view, it looked like the brunette was simply whispering something in John's ear, but in reality; John was meekly allowing his... _master _to become familiar with his body again, well; at least his neck and ears. "Oh, Johnny, don't you remember me?"

"Who could _possibly _forget _you_?" John snapped in response, but kept his voice low, not wanting to draw attention from any strangers.

"Just to jog your memory.." the man purred, ignoring John's attitude for a moment, and carefully pressed himself closer to John. "Jim Moriarty, _hi_~" he sang after a moment, his thick Irish accent coating his voice like honey, and John had to supress a whimper when Jim nipped his ear; just like he used to, showing him just _who _the dominant one was, though it was quite clear in their roles. After a moment of silence, Jim removed himself from behind John and took a seat across from the blonde, placing a mug of coffee down on the table carefully. "Now, why don't you _explain yourself_?"

"Explain myself?" John asked nervously, expecting Jim to explode for asking such a stupid question. He knew Jim wanted him to explain why he had stayed with Sherlock Holmes, instead of returning to his master's humble abode. Jim smiled a wry smile, his cold eyes narrowing at John expectantly. "W-Well.. um.." oh God, how was he supposed to tell Jim why he had _really _abandoned the psychopath? It wasn't because Jim had been too carefree and had let John run off, but it was because the man had been too _scared _to return to his bipolar master. John really didn't want to call Jim his 'master', but whenever he looked at differently; John felt odd calling him other titles.

"Don't stutter, Johnny, out with it." Jim piped up and John nodded a small, meek nod. He _hated _being meek towards such a man, but Jim could blow up the United Kingdom in alphabetical order, so it was only natural to be afraid of him, right? "Daddy won't be angry, honey~" Jim hummed and John shivered, knowing that Jim would _flip _if he was told the truth, so he simply (and rather shyly, too) reached out and gripped Jim's hand, flushing nervously as Jim smiled a smile that mirrored one of the Cheshire Cat. "Oh, pet, what _have _you been through?"

'_I'm really starting to regret my social life._' John thought as Jim used his thumb to rub soft, soothing circles into John's hand. '_And life in general._'

"Do you want to change the subject, pet? Daddy doesn't need to know this information _just _yet." John nodded again, not trusting his voice; he'd probably end up breaking down if he spoke, because he'd probably sound meek and willing for Jim to embrace him in his webs of lies, again. Sadly, once somebody was abused, they never _really _got over it; they may act like they have, but it'd always be there; waiting for the right time to strike, and John's memories were dancing around his head, laughing evilly. It was _torture_. "So, why're you in this part of town?"

"Sherlock was being annoying, so I stormed out." Jim's eyes brightened at the reply, clearly thinking something amusing at such an answer. "I ended up here."

"Oh, I'm so glad you did, pet." Jim crooned, lifting his mug up and taking a sip of the warm coffee with that same grin. After swallowing the creamy liquid, Jim lowered his mug to the table again and licked his upper lip, causing John's flush to become much worse at the suggestive action. "Now.." Jim leaned forwards, resting his chin on his hands and keeping John's gaze with his dark eyes. "Why don't you come to Daddy's hotel room? We can have some fun, sweetheart."

"N-No." John shuffled backwards in his chair, pulling his cup with him, hoping to keep the psychopath _away _from him. Jim didn't seem very happy with the response, since he shuffled forwards in his own chair, scowling deeply.

"Come on, pet, I'll treat you nicely." Jim's tone was reassuring, but the glare in his eyes said otherwise. "Sherlock won't be back for another few hours, he's _awfully _busy with his newest case, after all. He won't even notice you're gone, will he? He never does, pet, unlike me~" Jim's grin - somehow - widened, revealing a set of pearly white teeth. John bit back a whimper at the hurtful words, he knew Jim was just playing with him, but.. in a sense; Jim _was _right.

"_No_." John placed his cup down on the table, completely forgetting the deliciously warm tea in said cup. "You never missed me, you just want a cute toy to mess around with, and I am _certainly _not going back to being that. Sherlock may be bad at expressing his emotions, but at least he _cares _about me!" John snarled, before he stood up in record time, causing the chair to skid back with a loud screech and he turned to leave. However, a hand on his wrist kept him from running, and he turned to shout at Jim to let the blonde go. "Mori-!"

"Oh, you're so quick to anger, Dr Watson." Jim hummed, a frown replacing his smile and an unamused glint to his eyes.

"That's a good observation, you might even beat Sherlock at being so obnoxiously obvious." John growled in response, tugging his arm in an attempt to get himself free. Sadly, Jim pulled him back and stood up, which caused even John to flinch; even if Jim was an inch or two shorter than John, the brunette still managed to send John into a fit of fear.

"Enough of your usual remarks." Jim's tone remained light, but his voice had lowered and John would actually prefer the man to shout at him; it wasn't as scary as Jim speaking calmly, after all. "Just remember, Johnny; _I owe you_." Jim tugged John again, pressing his lips to John's cheek, but leaving enough space to growl; "I _own _you."

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**Note: Well, I hope that was a good ending for part one!**

**I hope you enjoyed.**

_**~ Faithful Strings.**_


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